


The One Where Hanzo Makes a Friend

by Skeptic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Hanzo has PTSD, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Jesse McCree/Genji Shimada, Jesse is protective of Genji and hates Hanzo w/ his guts, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, So Very Slow, This began as a oneshot but I kept writing, it'll all turn out okay tho, you'll see- it was never an actual thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9088006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeptic/pseuds/Skeptic
Summary: It’s not that Hanzo minded parties. It’s that he absolutely loathed them.AKA Hanzo's arrival to Overwatch is celebrated with a party, and one drunk Jesse McCree is not happy to see him at all.Cue the painfully slow relationship building as the two figure out how to piss one another off and get good at it.





	1. The One Where They Meet

**Author's Note:**

> First fic on here and in Overwatch, let's see how it goes!

It’s not that Hanzo minded parties. No, he’s had his fair share of them- fair share being one, if he’s being honest with himself, at Genji’s 18th birthday, when he absolutely insisted on going out and dragging Hanzo along. So, yeah. One party under his belt, and it’s not that he didn’t mind.

It’s that he absolutely _loathed_ them.

Hanzo hated parties with his very being. Nevermind the fact that he has only been to the one- he’s seen the way Genji comes back to the mansion after a night out, all too often drunk and incoherent, and he has to clean up his messes afterwards. That was enough to make someone loathe them, right?

So yeah. Hanzo hated parties.

And as it happened to be, he was at one right now.

It was very shortly after he joined Overwatch, and despite training with some of the party-goers around him for the past week, he still did not know them well enough to loosen up. It was too soon, everything happened too quickly, and he was still getting used to the idea of Genji being alive. All of them were gathered at a bar in town, trying to be inconspicuous, so Genji had offered to pretend like it was his birthday. Besides, the bar offered a small discount on birthday celebrations, so it was for the best.

The night had been alright so far- once in a while, someone would come up and drunkenly welcome him to the family, or let him know they're always there for him to talk to and train with- things Hanzo already knew. There have been a handful of people who have avoided him or did not even realize he was the reason for the gathering at the bar- those were the ones Hanzo silently thanked in his mind. He did not like making small talk, and that's all that he has had with Overwatch members so far. Small talk.

Hanzo sighed while taking another sip of his drink. His phone, once at full battery life, was now creeping closer to death as time passed- it was at 25% already, after just three hours. He highly doubted anyone had a charger on them. Finishing off his drink, he pushed some bills towards the bartender and nodded his temporary goodbye.

Genji was sitting in the corner of the room, playing video games with some friends. Some fighting simulator, Hanzo guessed as he approached the group. The corner was loud, filled with drunken friends who were either bickering or were groping each other like there was no tomorrow. With a small grimace, Hanzo tore his eyes off of a particularly inappropriate couple and made his way towards his little brother.

“Otouto, it is getting late. Perhaps you should begin wrapping up your celebration,” Hanzo politely offered, giving another side glance at the couple, one of the two now sporting some darkening hickeys on her neck. Genji didn’t seem to pay attention. Hanzo wondered idly if they were even a part of Overwatch. Genji had friends everywhere, it seemed.

“Aw fuck yeah!” he screamed, jumping off the couch and throwing his controller on it as he pumped a fist in the air. "Git gud, Hana!" he said, pointing a finger at the youngest member of the group, who was still pressing buttons on her controller.

"Genji, I was just knocked out. Not dead yet," Hana said with a cheeky grin, her figure on the screen pummeling an immobile character to the ground.

"Are you seri-"

"-but guess who's dead now, sucker!" Hana said, throwing her own remote to the couch with finality as the words PLAYER "bunny" WINS appeared on the screen. Genji stood, lights on his visor dimming as he took in the loss. Hana was doing a little dance, a humorous contrast to Genji, who was as still as a rock.

"Genji." The voice of the older Shimada startled the younger back into motion, and he sat back down on the couch. Presumably to re-match the young girl, Hanzo thought. He remembered when Genji would play video games with friends, sometimes even him, relentlessly making his opponents play with him until he'd win. Not the best strategy, in Hanzo's mind, but he supposed the eventual satisfaction may have been worth it.

"Genji, it is getting late," he repeated, shaking his head to rid old memories. "We should all be getting back soon."

Had Genji's mask not been on his face, everyone would have seen him pouting. As it was, he whined out loud, but shut off the game and gathered all his stuff.

Hana and Lucio went around to gather everyone and let them know that they were all disbanding. Hanzo sighed in relief as most finished up their conversations and headed out. He did not want to be the first one to leave, plus, it was getting late. Asking Genji to break up the party was for the best.

Speaking of.

Genji was now at the bar- when had he gotten there?- trying to get a member of their party to get up. The cowboy, Hanzo thought to himself as he noticed the iconic hat on the bar, next to the man. Hanzo decided to make his way over.

"Is everything alright?" Hanzo queried, giving the cowboy a side glance. Genji shrugged.

"Oh, Jesse? He's always like this. Drinks a lot, then takes naps," Genji said, picking up the hat and putting it on it's owner's head. "Jesse McCree needs his hat," Genji explained. Hanzo blinked.

"That does not explain if everything is alright," Hanzo said hesitantly. Genji snorted, the noise coming out mechanical.

"He's usually fine, but he's gonna need some help getting back." Genji patted Hanzo's shoulder as if to send a message. Too bad Hanzo didn't pick up on the intention.

"Alright, have fun with that," he said instead, turning around and walking away. He heard Genji's whine behind him.

"Brother, please help me. He's too heavy. This isn't my job," Genji protested.

"Neither is it mine!" Hanzo snapped, waving at the man snoring happily on the counter. "I have only just joined, and cannot be a caretaker for those too childish to drink obscene amounts!"

Genji just whined again. Damn him. Hanzo ran a hand through his hair. There was a reason it was getting silver in areas, he thought.

"Why not you?" he asked.

"I, um. Have kind of been avoiding Angela over there-" he said, pointing to the doctor who was waiting in the corner- "because tune-ups are annoying. But she's relentless." Genji shrugged, visor flicking brightly to indicate a smile. Angela, the doctor, waggled her fingers at them before crossing her arms again. Hanzo's lips were tight, but he managed a noise of agreement.

"Are these tune-ups necessary." he deadpanned, and Genji nodded.

"Part of the reason I cannot support him. I may or may not have gotten a little rusty in Nepal." Genji said sheepishly. Hanzo frowned at that.

"Did you not just say this is not your job?"

"Physically rusty, brother." Genji rebutted, tapping his knee. "The snows did not do me favors when they melted, and workmen there were not equipped to handle a half-man, half-omnic..." His voice had lowered, trailing off at the end of the sentence.

Hanzo nodded, throat too tight to speak. He will deal with guilt later.

"I will accompany...uh."

"Jesse McCree." Genji's voice had definitely picked up.

"I will accompany Mr. McCree back to the base," Hanzo finished, just as Genji attacked him with a quick hug.

"You're the best. I'll make it up to you!" Genji said, before nodding at Angela, the two of them disappearing into the night.

Hanzo groaned out loud. He was already neck-deep in regrets.

Turning back towards the sleeping cowboy, Hanzo placed a hand on his shoulder tentatively. What was the best way to go about this? Was he a heavy sleeper? Did he need to be carried? Hanzo was no weightlifter, but he could do it if it came down to it. He didn't want to, by any means, but he could.

He opted to try to shake the man awake first.

This resulted in a muffled groan and the man changing positions to sleep on the other side of his face.

Hanzo locked eyes with the bartender, who glanced down at the sleeping cowboy before shrugging and going out to collect some leftover glasses. No help there.

"Mr. McCree, we must leave. The party has finished, and it is late," Hanzo said again, taking the hat off of the man to get a clear look at his face. He looked fast asleep, if the light snore and puddle of drool on the side he used to face was any indication. Hanzo grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a sitting position. The man awoke.

"What're ya doin' there?" he drawled, grabbing his hat back from a frustrated Hanzo. He placed it on his head, then blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light. Hanzo could see his own reflection in the man's glassy, drunken eyes.

Once the cowboy was paying attention, he pointed to the clock on the wall.

"It is getting late, Mr. McCree-"

"McCree. Just McCree. Or, Jesse is good, too, pardner," McCree said, giving Hanzo an exaggerated wink, "you can call me Jesse anytime."

"-McCree, it is getting late," Hanzo breathed out, annoyed, and looked the cowboy in the eyes. "The bar is closed, technically, and all your friends have left."

McCree glanced around, looking mildly surprised. "So they have, huh. Woulda thought they'd leave me here with someone I know, a friend even, but they let a stranger wake me."

"I am not a stranger, Mr. McCree, I am Genji's brother, and it is-"

A forceful punch to the gut interrupted his sentence.

"You fuckin' _what?_ " McCree growled, looking much more alive. Hanzo did not feel hurt, merely surprised by the cowboy's actions. He sure was lively for a drunk man. The bartender paused his cleaning to look up and stare, but Hanzo gave him a little wave. McCree followed his glance, and saw they were not alone.

"Let's take this outside," he muttered, stumbling drunkenly into a stool before heading outside. Grimacing, Hanzo followed. McCree stood by the door, and motioned for Hanzo to shut it.

"I am his brother," Hanzo began, once the door was closed, "and we had a celebration to officially 'welcome' me here to Overwatch- Mr. McCree, how much of the bottle have you had tonight?"

"Not enough, clearly, if I'm 'ere talkin' to ya." Hanzo narrowed his eyes and stared at McCree.

"I have done you no harm, McCree. Genji told me to see you home safely, and that is what I will do. A drunk man such as yourself has no place sleeping in a bar. If you do not wish my escort, so be it, but I will not leave something- or someone- entrusted to my care behind. Prior to this I have not spoken about anything with you, nor have I trained with you. We have not had any interaction. Is there a vendetta you have against me I should know about?" Hanzo queried, fear pooling in his gut as he began realizing what was wrong.

McCree rolled his head to stare at the archer.

"You know what you did," he said, then giggled and vomited. Hanzo reached out, his arms halfway between McCree and himself, but chose to stay away, nose wrinkling. It was not a pretty sight. He was also very bad at taking care of drunk persons.

"You _killed_  him." McCree finally spat at Hanzo's feet before slumping against the wall. "You good and killed 'im and he was a wreck when he got here. You've'nt any idea. He hated everyone, but most of all himself."

Hanzo pressed his lips together tightly as he watched the man vomit again. He felt like throwing up, too- due to the words or the sight of vomit, he had no idea, but it was probably a combination of the two.

The guilt he felt for what he thought was Genji's death had nagged him for a long time. The memories of him slaughtering his little brother as if he was a training dummy haunted him for years. They would not leave him, and he dreaded going to sleep for years, as the daytime was not the only thing that held remembrance.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the archer tried to rid himself of the sudden waves of images bombarding his brain. Genji, bleeding to death. Genji, walking into the room, not knowing what was about to happen. What Hanzo had made his mind up to do in the heat of the moment. The anger, the rush, the relief, and finally the panic when his actions set in. How while Genji choked on blood, Hanzo choked on air, and ran.

Once he found Genji alive, though, the guilt that had consumed him for years had not stopped. In fact, it was brought back tenfold. His little brother, sounding happy and free of hate, showing him off like nothing had happened. People welcoming him in and hugging him. Hanzo could not understand at all what had happened to his younger brother. Could not wrap his mind around the fact that _his brother_ , the victim of his crime, had forgiven him, while he has yet to forgive himself, and that others were joyous to share his company as well.

Then, just now, the realization that Genji obviously told others. He was naive to assume otherwise, but the hate that this man was showing him now was like another, stronger punch to the gut. Not a physical punch, but a punch strong enough to take his breath away nonetheless. The realization that some may have known about his past actions but chose to see past it, while others, loyal to Genji, were clearly hung onto this information. Genji had forgiven him. His friends never would.

Hanzo suddenly wished he would have had a lot more to drink.

"We must get you to your home, McCree," Hanzo said, not responding to the cowboy's comment. He reached a hand out to the man, but it was smacked away.

"I, I dun need yer help, I can manage." McCree muttered, grabbing at air as he grunted and attempted to stand. Hanzo stood there, awkwardly, watching the grown man struggle to get to his feet. It would have been an amusing sight had they been closer, and friendlier.

Hanzo gave McCree a look. "Are you alright to walk home?" McCree patted the wall in confirmation and began walking forward, only to trip and fall back against the building. Hanzo grabbed the cowboy's arm to steady him, but McCree shoved him off and began stumbling away.

"I ain't gonna walk with help," Hanzo heard, "you cold blooded murderer."

Hanzo swallowed his words in his mouth, his lungs refusing to work.

He never did see if McCree made it back alright.


	2. The One Where Jesse Tries to Relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo is gonezo, and Jesse is pretty okay with that, until he is confronted. And then he does some meditation.

Jesse woke up with a pounding headache, and promptly decided that drinking well above his limit was something that was best left to his teenage years.

"The hell is the time?" he muttered to himself, checking his alarm clock while rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

The clock read 11:59. Jesse glared at it. Part of him was silently annoyed that he had slept in this late, part of him was annoyed that he had woken up right before noon. He pushed himself off the bed and groaned, head spinning, bile rising in the back of his throat. Jesse swallowed it back down with a grimace and resumed glaring at the clock.

"Hilarious," he muttered, watching the tiny numbers flip to 12:00, "it's noon."

_Now_ he could get up. Pulling on a shirt he didn't realize he had taken off the night before, the cowboy grabbed his hat and padded towards the door, putting on his boots.

Pausing before he left, he looked at the clock one more time. Smiled a little. It still read 12:00. He took in a deep breath.

" _It's high noo-_ nope," he cut himself off, coughing. "Not doing that. Need water," he rasped to himself, and shut the door. It would have to wait until later.

So instead, he made his way to the dining hall. Having slept through breakfast, his stomach was growling a little more than usual, but he didn't feel particularly hungry. More nauseous than anything, if he was being honest with himself, but he needed some cold water and bread at least to settle his lurching stomach.

Reinhardt was in the kitchen, making what smelled like his famous bratwurst dish. Torbjorn was in there, 'helping' out- the two were great friends, but the mechanic never really did much other than taste-testing. Reinhardt was too strict about his cooking to let anyone come near it.

Jesse was thankful for this. He wasn't too sure if Torbjorn could cook, but if it was anything like his baking, then they'd all be dead within a week.

Waving to the two of them, Jesse approached the kitchen, making sure to sit down close enough to talk, but far enough away to not bother Reinhardt.

"How's ya'll's mornings been here?" he asked, grinning at Torbjorn. Torbjorn rolled his eyes and gestured towards the other man, then mimicked a throat-slitting motion, causing Jesse to laugh. Reinhardt finished placing a sheet of potato slices in the oven, and turned towards the two of them.

"Jesse!" he shouted, grinning, and clapped his hands together. "I am sorry cannot welcome you properly, I am preparing lunch."

"It's all good, big guy." Jesse smiled, wincing as his brain amplified all the audio input it was getting. It was going to be the death of him if he didn't get some water soon.

Torbjorn seemed to notice, grabbing a pitcher of filtered water and shoving a glass towards the cowboy. Jesse grabbed it silently, pouring himself some and chugging it down. Half the cup missed and ran down his neck and onto his shirt.

Gross.

Reinhardt didn't pay much attention, though, having turned back to the stove to chop up a cabbage.

"Hit the bottle a little too hard last night, did ya?" Torbjorn laughed, pouring Jesse some more water. "Actually drink it this time, and it'll help."

Jesse stuck his tongue out at the older man, but drank the second glass.

"Ah, Jesse. I was just wondering about you. I see you made it back safely last night." Genji approached him from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder in greeting. The cowboy stiffened, then nodded as Genji pulled up a chair to sit next to him.

"Have you seen my brother anywhere? We were scheduled to train together this morning, but he did not make an appearance." Jesse snorted.

"Why would I know where your-

"He was with you."

"-brother is. Oh." Jesse bit his lip, foggy memories of the previous night coming back in a rush. He was drunk. He was drunk and mad. He was drunk and mad at Genji's brother. For murdering Genji. Who wouldn't be, though.

Genji's visor flickered in clear irritation. The kitchen fell silent. Jesse coughed and poured himself some more water, drinking a sip, pointedly ignoring Genji.

Reinhardt cleared his throat.

"I will be back in ten minutes to check on this. Make sure the pot does not boil over," he asked meekly, and put his apron down on the counter before walking out of the kitchen. Torbjorn followed, grabbing Jesse's shoulder and pulling him close for a quick "Good luck" before making his way out.

The kitchen was silent again. Jesse took another sip of water and licked his lips.

"Look, you know I don't like the guy. He done killed you." The cowboy stared at the counter, refusing to feel guilt. He wasn't sure what it was that nagged at him though. "'Sides, he could be in his room or somethin'." He knew as soon as he said it that it was a bullshit comment.

"I have checked his quarters when he was late for training. He was not there. I have searched everywhere for him, and he is not on the base. I have asked Athena. She. Has. Checked." Genji spat out, poking a finger into the cowboy's chest. Jesse shifted away from it.

"Why is this even a big deal? I was the drunk one, not him," he muttered, wondering how long he has been making eye contact with the granite specks in the countertop. It must've been five minutes by now, give or take one. "He probably got back fine, but went out for the day. Sightseein'." Another comment loaded with crap. He was on a roll today.

"Jesse, my brother does not shirk his duties, not even under emotional stress. I do not understand what happened, which is what is causing my distress," Genji explained, letting out a breath. His body made a hissing sound as hot air escaped from some areas. Jesse gulped. Genji heating up was not a good sign.

"Wow, um. Well, this one's a hoot, really." Jesse let out a breathy laugh as he gave Genji a side glance. "I may or may not have gotten mad at him?" he offered, swirling his water around the glass. Genji nodded, urging for him to continue. "About the whole killing you thing?" Genji closed his eyes- at least, Jesse thinks that's what happened, with his visor lights going out and all that.

"So then he left?" Jesse patted the counter and stood up.

"Yep, and wow, would you _look_ at the time, I have _got_ to-"

"Sit down."

"-okay!" he practically shouted, patting the counter again as he slumped back into his chair. Dealing with confrontation? Not his strongest suit. Torture, on the other hand, he could handle with ease.

"Jesse, will you help me look for him?" Genji asked, not unkindly, but it may as well have been a demand. Those he didn't do so well with.

"What?" he asked, whipping around to look at Genji. "Excuse me?"

"You are a close friend, Jesse, and I am only asking-"

" _Hell_  no. What the fuck, Genji? He  _killed_  you! He is not your brother, no real brother _kills_ his younger sibling!" The cowboy was shouting by now, for reasons he himself didn't even understand. His face was feeling super hot. Jesse was sure Genji could see straight through him. He could hear Genji take in a breath.

"Jesse, Hanzo is my family-"

" _Overwatch is your family!_ " Jesse shouted, smacking his hands down on the counter. "Don't you understand? He was never there for you, never cared about you like we did! We helped! Why do you still care for him?"

Genji fell silent, crossing his arms. He stared at Jesse. Jesse stared back.

"He murdered you." Jesse whispered, trying to fight back tears. It didn't really work. Genji said nothing.

"There's somethin' wrong with you. You forgive too easily. All that monk 'n' peace nonsense has made you different." Jesse huffed, frowning, wiping his face quickly. "Your brother can rot in hell for all I care. I ain't findin no murderer. Not this one, anyways."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen.

\---

Two hours later, after he had moped around a sufficient amount and successfully scared away Mei from his door- no, he did _not_ want lunch, he was not _hungry_ \- Jesse's anger had subsided. It still burned in him, but it was more muted in comparison to the guilt he felt for lashing out as his best friend.

There was too much guilt and anger in the past two days, and that didn't bode well with Jesse.

He picked himself up off his bed, annoyed that he was doing this for the second time today, and left his room in search of Genji. Jesse usually hung out with Genji in the evenings, but his mid-afternoon activities were a mystery to the cowboy. Training was a given, but didn't he say he trained in the mornings a few hours ago? Or was that just with Hanzo? Either way, it was a recent development, given that the archer had just arrived not long ago to the group.

Shaking his head, Jesse made his way towards the doors leading outside. If anything, it was possible Genji could be with Zenyatta, meditating.

On the cliffs, Jesse found them. Meditating.

He stared at a rock, asking it telepathically if those were the only two things Genji did. Train and meditate.

The rock did not respond. Jesse assumed it was a silent, judgemental type. He stuck out his tongue at it.

"Jesse. Have you come to join us?" Zenyatta's voice rang clear in the afternoon air, and Jesse sheepishly looked up to see both of them curiously regarding him. Well. Curious was a strong word- without seeing Genji's flesh face, and Zenyatta having a permanent stoic one, Jesse assumed they were wondering what he was doing out there. Making faces at the ground. Little did they know about the rock.

"Yes, um. I was jus' lookin' for Genji, but I can see he's preoccupied, so I will just keep walkin'," Jesse chuckled, about to turn away when Zenyatta approached him.

"You are troubled." The omnic's face was set straight at Jesse's, and he was finding it hard to meet Zenyatta's... eyes? Face? Presence?

"No shit." he muttered instead, a little gruffer than intended.

"Would you like to join us? It will only take a moment," Zenyatta said, his orbs circulating slowly around him. Jesse sighed.

"Just for a bit, I suppose. If ya say it'll only take a moment." Jesse conceded, following the monk back to where Genji sat.

Zenyatta passed him an orb of tranquility. "This is to help you be at peace," he said, folding his arms on top of one another. "Do not fight it. Close your eyes, and inhale."

Jesse closed his eyes hesitantly, sucking in a deep breath.

"Exhale slowly, and with it release the tensions you hold within yourself. Begin with your shoulders..."

As Zenyatta's instructions continued, Jesse began to relax. At least he thought he was relaxing. Was he relaxed? Shit, was he thinking? Zenyatta said to release thoughts just now. No more thoughts. Don't think. No thoughts. _Hanzo._ Shit. Hanzo. He was thinking of Hanzo. That horrible, fratricidal, no-good-

He felt a cold hand on his shoulder.

"Let go of any stray thoughts that linger in your mind, and feel the breeze of the wind against your body. Feel the earth that surrounds you, and remember, you are not alone. The universe resides within you, and around you. Breathe in again."

Jesse inhaled again. Hanzo's face popped in his mind. He tried to ignore it.

"Release your breath, and with it the final cares of your mind. Be at peace. Feel nothing."

Jesse slowly released the air from his lungs, and with it, his anger for Hanzo.

Well. Sort of.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha college! Too busy for things and stuff. Don't have enough time to relax and write what I want.   
> Actually, I wrote like the 10th chapter or something but that's cause I wanted to finally get to certain parts.


End file.
